Crest
by Andromeda Danger
Summary: AU TF:Prime. "I know it, deep in my spark. I know that Smokescreen is the child we gave up all those eons ago." Rated M for slash and mechpreg. *This is what happens when your Tumblr dash gets filled with "Robofamily".* COMPLETE.


**This is what happens after I end up seeing WAY TOO MANY "Robofamily" drawings and posts on my Tumblr dash. I am actually not fond of the idea (I do not like Smokescreen, nor do I like the idea of Ratchet being the carrier) but I just had to get this out. This only a one-shot.**

.-.-.

"_Easy, Optimus. Easy. Inhale and exhale, you're doing great. Just stay calm"_

_The Prime wanted to hit the Autobot medic in the faceplates. How could he be expected to stay calm in this sort of situation? When his body was being torn apart, ravaged by pain and agony, all for something that was so small?_

_He'd hidden it all this time. Really well. The only ones that were in the know were himself, Ratchet, and his beloved mentor, Alpha Trion. He couldn't risk such delicate information falling into Decepticon servos. They would take advantage of him and his fragile condition to attack the few strongholds that the Autobot faction still held onto. He wouldn't have put it past Megatron to send out a team to look for him, to bring him to him and kill him on the spot._

_Optimus's intakes hitched and he screamed as another spasm coursed through his frame. A one-night stand both mechs mutually regretted, and he and Ratchet were now welcoming the first sparkling to be born during the war. Taking care of his troops and making sure they didn't all offline had taken away his attention from himself. He had no idea he was carrying until a soft _clang!_ had emanated from his frame during a meeting comprised of himself, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Prowl. Ironhide and Prowl had looked around warily, wondering if the Decepticons had managed to get a spy into their base, while Ratchet stared at the Prime with widened optics._

"How did you not know?!" Ratchet had nearly screamed at the red and blue mech the moment the doors to the soundproofed medical bay closed. Optimus flinched and replied, "I did not experience nausea, Ratchet. And I attributed my need for more energon to increased stress."

"I should have scanned you the very next day," the medic said, more to himself than to the Prime. "We can't bring a sparkling into a war like this. But if it's able to kick, it's too far along to exterminate without causing harm to your own frame, Optimus…"

_He briefly regretted having agreed to carry the sparkling, a mechling Ratchet had said, for the rest of the pregnancy cycle. The only reason he had agreed to it was due to the damage that would result if he terminated the sparkling this late into the process. Optimus felt his legs about to give out underneath him. He moaned in pain and whispered, "Ratchet, I'm going to fall if I keep this up for longer."_

_The Autobot medic hastily ran a scan on the Prime's frame, servos visibly shaking. "The sparkling's about to enter the emergence channel. Can you kneel and have your servos to the wall?"_

"_Y-yes."_

_Optimus parted his legs as he knelt down, relieved that he no longer had to be in that uncomfortable squatting position, and leaned forward, placing his servos and his forehelm on the wall of his quarters. He thanked Primus that Ratchet had brought along a device that broadcast a static field around his room, essentially soundproofing it and preventing anyone else from hearing his agonized screams._

"_He's entered," Ratchet's voice filtered into his processor at the same time he felt the pressure in his lower abdominal area increase. He gasped and scratched at the wall._

_Ratchet was at his side, leaning in and around his front to help with the sparkling's emergence. Without invitation he worked his digits into the Prime's valve and felt the sparkling's helm. "He's coming down. When the next contraction hits make sure you push with it. Hard."_

_As if on cue the Autobot Commander jerked and had to hold in a scream. His frame quivered as he obeyed his body's will, concentrating all his power into his muscle cables as he pushed down._

"_Good, Optimus, good. Inhale and exhale and wait for the next one."_

_It would be a few moments. The Prime groaned and took the lull in the pain to murmur, "Does Alpha Trion know?"_

"_He does. He's on his way."_

_All Optimus could do was nod his helm and return to staring at the uninteresting blandness of the wall. When the contractions returned he curled his servos into fists, bit down on his lower lip, and pushed, feeling the sparkling's helm inch closer to the entrance of his valve._

"_Okay, this is going to be a stretch," Ratchet said, talking to give Optimus some little sense of comfort. The Prime moaned and replied, "You do not have to speak if you do not want to, Ratchet."_

_The medic didn't speak further. He only dipped down so he could get a better view of the sparkling emerging. He gently stretched the valve rim to help the sparkling out further. A small, soft, and wet mass descended from the darkness in Optimus Prime's body, falling out in a sheen of golden fluids and circuitry into his waiting servos. Above him the Autobot leader choked as the mass left him._

"_We knew already, but it's a mech," Ratchet whispered as he cradled the fragile form in his servos, awed at the life he'd had a part in creating. The frame was jerking, unused to such liberation, before blue optics onlined. The mechling stared up at the medic, at his Sire, for a few moments before closing his optics again and putting his vocalizer to use by crying._

"_Optimus?" Ratchet said over his son's frantic cries, looking up at the Autobot commander. Optimus paid him no mind. The Prime stayed in his kneeling position against the wall for a few moments, optics closed and chassis heaving, before slowly getting to his legs. They shook underneath him. Gestational fluids trickled down his thighs, but Optimus paid little attention to it as he made his way over to his berth and sat at the edge. He leaned forward and cradled his helm in his servos._

"_Optimus? Don't you want to see him?"_

"_No, Ratchet."_

"_No?" the medic couldn't keep the surprise and hurt out of his tone as the newborn mechling reached for him. "Optimus…he's our son."_

"_I cannot let him near me, Ratchet. I did not establish a bond with him during his time within my frame. If I let him near me he will intertwine his electromagnetic fields with mine and create the bond I fought to keep from happening. He cannot know me. He cannot know us, Ratchet," the Prime finished in a hoarse whisper._

_It stayed silent for what seemed to be an eternity, broken only by the mournful wails of the sparkling as he tried to form the bond with his carrier. Ratchet only chirred softly at the mechling, trying to stop his cries to no avail. He grabbed a pair of cloths from his subspace, using one to clean off the mech's little body, and wrapping him in the other one. A short message reached him, which he read hastily as he grasped the mechling to his chassis._

"_Alpha Trion is at the designated meeting point. I will go and deliver the sparkling to him."_

_Optimus lifted his helm from his servos and only stared once more at the wall, nodding softly. "I…" his optics flickered down to the floor, "I will clean this up."_

"_No, you will go to your washracks and shower and go into recharge. You need it. I will clean it when I return," Ratchet stated softly as he injected the mechling with a sedative. A few moments passed before the cries of the little one ceased. He had only enough time to give him to Alpha Trion and see the Head Archivist off before the medicine would wear off. The medic looked up again at the Prime, waiting for Optimus to do or say something, anything._

_When he didn't, he turned around and left the Prime's quarters, locking them behind him._

_.-.-._

_He had only met Alpha Trion thrice, but the Head Archivist wasn't a difficult one to spot. He and Optimus had actually been shocked when he'd agreed to take in the sparkling. All he could hope was that no one else would be around when the transfer took place._

_They'd agreed to meet a block west of the remains of the old oil house, Maccadam's. The place had been his favorite spot to de-stress from his medical examinations during his university days, and he'd let a tear fall when the last Decepticon raid had flattened it. Every few steps the medic stopped and looked around, scanning his surroundings for any other lifeforms that could be following him. None. He was relieved to see a familiar silhouette up ahead. When he reached the Head Archivist he bowed his helm in respect._

"_Optimus and I are indebted to you, Archivist."_

"_Make no issue of it, Ratchet. I will care for him."_

"_Have you raised sparklings before?"_

_Ratchet hoped he hadn't touched on a delicate subject. The medic was put at some ease when the Archivist gently took the sedated mechling in his arms and shifted aside a fold of fabric. Alpha Trion smiled, a rare thing to occur if Optimus's stories were anything to go by. "I had a son once, a long time ago."_

_The medic looked around, making sure no one was looking or listening. "If I may inquire, what happened to him?"_

"_The war claimed him."_

"_My condolences."_

"_No need. It was a long time ago." Alpha Trion touched the mechling's forehelm crest, a familiar trait from the Prime. "Did Optimus say what he wished for him to be called?"_

"_He didn't. I couldn't get him to even look at him."_

"_Is there any designation that you had thought up of?"_

"_I…no." Ratchet hung his helm in shame. "I trusted that Optimus would be the one to want to name him, but he didn't."_

"_Hm. I have an idea what to call him. But since you and Optimus made it very clear that you did not want him to know about you both, I will not tell you."_

"_Thank you again, Archivist."_

"_Please," the elder mech secured the mechling in his arms and gave the white and orange mech a small smile. "My designation is Alpha Trion. Maybe you should put it to use, for once."_

.-.-.

"It's him."

Ratchet much preferred to work alone at nighttime. He had hoped that everyone would be asleep so he could get his work done. But there was always one bot that seemed to be the exception to the rule. He didn't look away from his task of fixing yet another medical tool that Bulkhead had crushed as Optimus sat down next to the work-table. The Prime drew his knee joints to his chassis and wrapped his long arms around them, staring off into the distance much as he had many eons ago.

"It's him," he repeated listlessly.

"I know. You couldn't look at him. I remember how he looked." Ratchet looked up from his work and over at the Autobot Commander. "I mainly remember the forehelm crest. It's just like yours. I remember the red designs on his helm, passed to him through me from my own Sire. And the doorwings. They were stubs…" the medic trailed off.

"I had my doubts," Optimus's saddened tone split apart the quiet that had fallen. "When he mentioned Alpha Trion, I knew."

"You never formed a bond with him, and neither did he. How could you know at first sight?"

The Prime stayed silent for a few moments before answering, "I have no sufficient answer for that, Ratchet. But I know it, deep in my spark. I know that Smokescreen is the child we gave up all those eons ago. It would seem that a carrier's instinct never leaves them."

A loud _thunk! _echoed in the base, setting both bots on edge. They waited a minute before they deduced that it was the base's air conditioning systems, setting both mechs at ease that they wouldn't be walked in on. Ratchet returned to his work and murmured, "Do you want to tell him?"

Optimus closed his optics and leaned his helm back to meet the edge of the table. "If this war were over, I would love to reveal to him his parentage."

"…but?"

"But this war is not over. As much as I regret not even having looked at him upon his birth, I cannot put him in any more danger than he already is. I cannot put another one of our Autobots in the crosshairs merely because of whom his carrier and sire are."

Silence fell again over both mechs. There were no cries of a sparkling to break it.


End file.
